Mother
Hours later, when her thoughts emerged from the daze, Lindy recalled the taste of metal seeping from her teeth. She could still taste it, silvery on her tongue. It was accompanied by a sound that was going to haunt her, dried branches breaking underfoot. She knew it was the sound of the ruthless jaws of the dingo crunching on her daughter’s tiny limbs.
She had been furious at Reagan. The dingo had stepped on his chest and woken him. She had demanded to know why he hadn’t stopped the dingo. She shook the whimpering boy until he screamed that he was sorry. That it was his fault his sister was gone.
The metallic taste seeped down her throat and settled below the pit of her stomach where her daughter once lived. It seemed to erode her from the inside. Since leaving the womb, Azaria hadn’t lived long enough to witness a full turning of the seasons.